


call of the ocean

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bitterness, Developing Friendships, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Ocean, Past Character Death, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Resentment, Talking, Understanding, Water, ghostbur is resentful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: "It would kill me," Ranboo says, staring off into the deep blue of the ocean. "It would kill you."Wilbur laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "That's the fun part, isn't it?"
Relationships: Ranboo & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 16
Kudos: 744





	call of the ocean

Ranboo stares at the ocean, stares at the waves that hit the beach, dragging sand back with them into the ocean. If he looks far enough, the blue of the ocean turns into black, dragging his mind along with it. The water swirls and flows easily, gracefully, even. Waves crash into the beach, and Ranboo closes his eyes for a few moments, breathing in the sea salt air. Seagulls crow from the sand, fluttering their wings as they take off, flying towards the ocean, disappearing past the horizon. He heaves a sigh, unable to explain the feeling in his chest.

It's desperation, he thinks. He wants to go to the ocean, he wants to swim and race through the water. He wants to stand in the ocean and have the waves crash into his legs. The ocean calls to him in a way nothing else has, and Ranboo doesn't understand. He can't do any of that, he can't risk standing too close to the beach, because he'll die. Well, he pauses, tilting his head to the side. He won't _die_ if his legs touch the water. He'll just get burns from it, he'll just be in crippling pain, but he won't _die_. Maybe that would be alright. Ranboo feels himself start to walk before he can stop himself, eyes fixated on the water, and-

"Woah, there," a voice laughs, a body standing in front of him. Ranboo blinks, shaking his head. He frowns, looking down at his feet. Ranboo pauses, frowning even more when he sees the sand is a slight brown colour. He takes three big steps back, wondering how the hell he even got this close to the ocean. He looks at the person in front of him, staring at the yellow jumper and curly brown hair. Wilbur, he thinks. Wilbur was the old President of L'manberg, if he remembers right. "You're an Enderman, my beloved Ranboo," Wilbur beams at him. "If you go into that ocean, you'll die." 

Ranboo looks away, squaring his shoulders. "I know. I don't know why I keep coming out here," he admits, watching the water swirl. "Do you ever get, like, the call to the ocean?" He asks, taking a few more steps back, putting more distance between him and his demise. "Even though it'll hurt you? Even though it'll kill you?" Wilbur smiles at him, moving to stand by his side. Ranboo watches as the sun and stars twinkle in the ocean's reflection, shining softly. "I don't know why my brain does that. I don't want to die."

"Hmm," Wilbur murmurs, nodding a few times. "I understand. I come out here all the time," Wilbur tells him. "It's the calling of the ocean, the call of the void," he explains, his eyes focused on the water. Ranboo can't help but do the same, watching it move. It's entrancing. Ranboo wishes that it wasn't. "Your brain sometimes tells you to do things that could get you hurt or killed. If we were to step out into the ocean, however," Wilbur smiles, "I think that it would go away."

"It would kill me," Ranboo says, staring off into the deep blue of the ocean. "It would kill you." 

Wilbur laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "That's the fun part, isn't it?" Ranboo frowns, mulling over the words. He would never consider risking his life to be fun, but the more he thinks about it, the more he can understand why it could be. "Of course, I wouldn't choose to go there," Wilbur sighs. "I don't think I would like to die twice. It isn't nearly as exciting as everyone makes it out to be." Ranboo tears his gaze away from the ocean, turning to look at Wilbur. He looks tired. He always looks tired. 

"I'm sorry," Ranboo offers, looking back out into the ocean, watching as white foam pushes against the cerulean blue. "Do you ever.." he pauses, watching a seagull dive towards the water, its wings barely scraping the surface of the water. "Wish that you were still alive?" Ranboo finishes, swallowing back the other words he wants to say. _Do you regret it? Do you resent them for hurting you? Do you remember? Are you smarter than you let on?_ Wilbur smiles at him, almost as if he knows exactly what Ranboo leaves unsaid. 

"Occasionally," he admits. "I may not remember much from before I died, but I'm no fool, Ranboo," Wilbur shifts on his feet, closing his eyes as he tilts his head up, chin jutted out towards the ocean. He looks at peace, with his sea-swept hair and pale-grey skin. His yellow jumper makes him stand out against everything else, almost like a beacon of light in the middle of a world of black and darkness. "I know that you've been talking with Phil and Techno," Wilbur says, suddenly. Ranboo feels his heart stop, feels his hand drift down to the sword on his hip. "That's not necessary," Wilbur laughs, ducking his head. "No, that's not needed at all. It's okay, Ranboo. I don't plan on doing anything about it. I'm happy for you," Wilbur tells him, sounding sincere. "It's nice to have a family, isn't it?"

Ranboo watches the stars shimmer, slowly being dragged down by the weight of the sky, being swallowed by the ocean. "I don't know if they consider me family."

"Not yet," Wilbur agrees. "Not for a long time. Give it a few months, and if you're still alive and haven't fucked them over, you'll be as close as blood family," he assures him. Though Ranboo isn't sure if it's assurance. "If you hurt my brother or my father, however.." Wilbur stares at him, and Ranboo wishes that he could look away, he wishes that he could-

"Stop," he whispers, feeling terrified. "Please, don't, please look away, please-"

Wilbur does. "I'm sorry," he murmurs under his breath. "I didn't realise that you had inherited that from your Enderman lineage," Wilbur looks back up at him, but he's staring at his forehead, not his eyes. Ranboo breathes out, nearly collapsing in on himself. Wilbur listened. He didn't keep looking at him, he didn't..Wilbur isn't trying to hurt him. Wilbur wouldn't have stopped if he wanted Ranboo to hurt. Ranboo is fairly certain that he can trust the man. "Don't hurt them," Wilbur says, his voice a little softer than it had been. "The both of them have been through a lot."

"Why don't you go to see them?" Wilbur snorts, ducking his head. 

"They don't want me there. They look at me like I'm an idiot, like I'm just their comic relief. A few months ago, that might have been true. It isn't," Wilbur tells him. "Not anymore. I'm not stupid, Ranboo," he says the words like he's trying to convince himself, like he's trying to make himself believe them. "I'm not. I swear to god, I'm not stupid. I'm not what everyone says I am. I have my own thoughts and my own ideas and morals, and..and.." 

"You are your own person," Ranboo murmurs. "You're not anyone else's extension. You're you. You're Wilbur Soot, you aren't just an extension of Phil or Tommy or, or..anyone else. You're real, you're not stupid."

Wilbur blinks, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "They've all said the same things to you, haven't they?" He asks, softly. "They treat you as if you're not important. They blame you when you're dead. They blame you for things that you couldn't control, they make you remember and they make you hurt, no matter how hard you try to convince them that you're different, that you've changed. They've hurt you, too." Ranboo swallows, nodding. 

"They have," he confirms. "All of them. They act like I'm just.." he shakes his head. "I don't know. A tool, I guess. Someone they can use to get their way."

"I'm also a tool," Wilbur snorts. "They thought they could use me to spy, to..to do what they wanted. Ever since I stopped living, I stopped serving a purpose. Seems like they wanted to use me as their own..their own personal fucking.." Wilbur shakes his head. "I'm a real person. I'm..my own person. So are you," he blinks up at Ranboo, though he quickly looks away, which Ranboo is thankful for. "You're real, you're a real person. You're your own person, too, Ranboo. Both of us are more than what they make us out to be. We're not just their playthings, we're..more than that. We're more than what they tell us we are." 

Ranboo smiles, tucking his hands in his jean pockets. "We're more than what they say we are," he puffs out his chest, feeling confidence in the words, feeling like he finally has someone that might understand him. "We are real, we are more than their tools."

"Yes," Wilbur grins, "we are. And you know, my lovely Ranboo," he rests his arm on Ranboo's shoulder. "One day, we'll be free from them. One day, their opinions won't weigh us down like they do now. We'll be alright eventually. One day, we'll finally be able to show that we aren't just their comic relief," Wilbur tells him, his voice soothing and soft, and Ranboo wants to believe him. He thinks that he might already believe the man. Ranboo can see why he was elected to be President - his words are so convincing, laced with a charm and finality that makes them feel truer than anything Ranboo has heard before. "Until then, though.." Wilbur looks off towards the ocean. "I think we could start talking more, Ranboo. I think that you're very interesting. You don't treat me like everyone else does." 

"I treat you like how I want you to treat me," Ranboo tells him. "I'm not..that special." 

"That's a lie," Wilbur turns to look at him, briefly meeting his eyes. "You treat me like a real person. You don't tell me I'm stupid, you don't laugh at me when I get confused. You don't make me feel like shit. You're a good person, and I.." Wilbur breathes out. "It's nice. To finally be seen as a human being by someone else. I'll treat you like a person, too, Ranboo. You're more than just what you're useful for. Maybe," Wilbur glances up at him, "we could meet here. More often, more planned, rather than just by chance. It's lonely when you're completely on your own, isn't it?" 

Ranboo silently agrees, listening to the ocean crash against the beach. "I'd like that, yeah. Thanks for, uh, stopping me," he ducks his head, laughing. "For stopping me before I walked into the ocean." Wilbur laughs, and it sounds like a song Ranboo has heard in his dreams. 

"Of course, Ranboo. Anything for a new friend, right?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. "I think that I'm less inclined to walk into the ocean now," Wilbur laughs. "What about you? Are you still called to it?" He asks, his voice low and steady. Ranboo finds Wilbur incredibly easy to listen to. He wonders if that's one of the reasons everyone followed him to the ends of the earth.

"Yeah," Ranboo confirms. "But it's easier to not give in with someone else here. Thank you, Wilbur."

"Thank _you_ , Ranboo," Wilbur smiles at him. "The call of the ocean isn't nearly as powerful as it used to be, not when you have someone to rely on." 

Ranboo silently agrees, watching as the waves crash against the beach, dragging the sand back with it. The sun slowly rises into the sky, and Ranboo can't help but think that things have finally started to go right. He's finally gotten himself a friend, he finally has someone who understands him. 

Ranboo doesn't know how long they stand there, just swaying in silence, but he does know that he doesn't care. He thinks that he could stand on the beach and stare out at the ocean with Wilbur all day, and he doesn't think that he would mind at all. 

No, Ranboo smiles. He wouldn't mind at all. 


End file.
